


My Immortal

by vogue91



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Anniversary, Character Death, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: Kei was staring at something outside the window.His expression was hard, like a mask made of ice, and he sat so properly on the edge of the couch that Yuya wandered if he wasn’t ready to run.





	My Immortal

Yuya stared at Kei, who was sitting on the couch of his living room.

It was late evening, the sun had almost completely set, and it was especially hot.

He couldn’t help but noticing how his own attire – a tank top and a pair of light shorts he used to stay at home – clashed with his friend’s.

When Kei had rang the bell and he had gone to the door, it had taken him a while to react to Kei’s presence there, dressed with a dark blue kimono.

He had been about to ask him why he was dressed like that, but then he had remembered what day it was and had just let him him, closing the door and joining him to the living room, without saying a word.

Kei was staring at something outside the window.

His expression was hard, like a mask made of ice, and he sat so properly on the edge of the couch that Yuya wandered if he wasn’t ready to run.

As soon as the elder sat next to him, Inoo had turned toward him, as in a request for help that Takaki didn’t know how to meet.

But Kei had always been good at asking straightforwardly for what he wanted, without leaving room to imagination.

He leant toward Yuya, resting his cheek on his collarbone and slowly starting to kiss his neck, a gesture the other pulled away from, confused.

Kei didn’t let that stop him; he stood up, still without saying a word, and he dragged himself toward the bedroom, confident that Takaki was going to follow.

And he did, actually, after less than a minute.

He found his friend sitting on his bed, while he slowly caressed the silk sheets, absorbed.

Yuya knelt behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder and forcing him to turn.

“Why are you here, Kei?” he asked, low.

Inoo shook his head, his hand still moving on the silk, as if he was fascinated by it, as if he couldn’t help it.

“I didn’t want to go back home today. There’s no one waiting for me there, and...” he sighed, turning his back on him again. “I didn’t feel like being alone.” he said, then he let his hand slip on Yuya’s leg, caressing it with the same tenderness used with the sheets.

Takaki understood what Kei wanted from him, that night.

He understood it by the desolation in his eyes, he understood it by that hand which seemed to ask for him to do the same, by that kimono he wore, a clear show of where he had been before getting there.

Kei didn’t want to think, and Yuya got that perfectly.

He didn’t really feel like complying, but he was going to anyway.

He didn’t wonder whether it was right or not, he didn’t wonder what he could’ve done differently to make him feel better, because even like that, even with that pain deep into his eyes, he trusted Kei to know what he wanted, and he trusted the fact that he had come to him to get it.

He settled better on the bed, slowly undoing the knot keeping the kimono closed and lowering the fabric on his shoulders, leaning toward him to stroke his skin with his lips and his tongue, sighing when he saw him close his eyes and starting to tear up, almost involuntarily.

Kei cried the whole time.

He cried while Yuya finished taking the kimono off of him and then undressed himself, he cried while he touched him and kissed him, and held him tight, as if he wanted to protect him from some invisible danger.

And he cried while Yuya pushed inside of him, slowly, so that it wasn’t going to hurt, trying to do his best to make him come, to allow him those few moments where he wasn’t forced to think, where he didn’t have to deal with a reality too cruel for him to bear.

And he did that.

For a little while but he did, and he was glad he had done something for him, even though so apparently useless, even though it was likely wrong.

After that, Kei laid down next to him, fiddling with the silk sheets, letting them slip on his skin.

Yuya was still looking at him, wondering what was going through his mind, when the younger pressed himself against him, and those few tears spilled before became a full on weeping.

Yuya sighed, holding him in his arms, letting him vent without asking anything, without trying to soothe him.

He listened to him cry, and he cried a little as well, because all taken in the task of distracting him, of not letting him think and satisfy that sudden desire of not being alone, he had forgotten to cry the first anniversary of Kota’s death.


End file.
